White flag oneshot
by The Writing Beany
Summary: He wasn't waving a white flag but he was offering to help her find some peace. Alex/Birkhoff. Few mature words.


White Flag

Verse: Nikita

Genre: Friendship/Angst/Hurt/Comfort

Rating: T/M

Pairings: Alex/Birkhoff, mentions of Michael/Nikita

Song: White Flag by Dido

Summary: He wasn't waving a white flag but he was offering to help with her peace. Future Fic

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><p><em>Russia, 2014<em>

The bitter and frozen air didn't phase her as much as it did two months ago. Russia was home once and something buried in Alex made her remember how best to starve off the harsh winter air surrounding her.

It wasn't home now; she hadn't found a home since the downfall of Division; Nikita offered her the chance to hang around with her but once Alex saw the looks between Nikita and Michael, she knew she had no place with them.

She had wanted to accuse Nikita of being a hypocrite; wanted to throw her words back at her, stating that they should never get close to anyone at Division. But she understood on some level that Michael and Nikita was something in the past, present and probably the future too. They couldn't stop their feelings and in the end all Alex could feel was jealously and happiness.

Nikita had lost everything, including the man she loved and nearly losing the man she probably always loved, and after everything she did, Alex guessed it was only fair that that Nikita found _some _peace in the end. It wasn't a secret in the end that Nikita planned to bring down Division only to hand her life over to Alex for payment in killing her family.

There was a few moments when Alex would have gladly cashed it in but then there was Michael and despite the betrayal, that would never really make things better, she couldn't enter another vicious cycle of revenge with him.

So she said goodbye to Nikita and Michael, promised to always keep in touch and went on her way. To what she had no idea, there was no one for her. Nathan was the closest thing she had to something more but he too was taken away by Division.

She actually liked to think he was married by now and raising his family, never thinking about her and what her life had forced him to do.

Her heart even broke a little each day thinking of Thom, but even if he had survived the betrayal would have been too much and they would never have been the same.

Alex had resigned her self to the life of being alone, perhaps a few people with whom she would become acquainted but nothing more.

Two years ago she had been doing just that until she awoke screaming one night; with no one to ever share her bed she had no worry of waking anyone or have them ask her questions she didn't want to answer. That day had been normal, she ran the usual errands and ate the same food she did most days, but something in her mind had been trigged and she dreamt of her time as a sex slave, of screaming for her godfather before he left her to rot with the hands of dirty bastards over her young skin.

Her hands shook for three days and she threw up every time she remembered her dreams. The fear of being trapped had started the night her family died but grew ten times worse when she was forced to lay beneath those dirty and heavy men while they grunted and ruined her.

The venom of hate grew steadily over the next few months; made it harder and harder for her to _think _about anything else. Made it so hard that she would reach for the phone and almost call Nikita for help. But she never did because she wasn't that little girl or recruit any more that needed help. She had to do things on her own, Nikita didn't need her drama any more. Not with baby Ally Danielson keeping her parents occupied.

It all came to a head six months ago when she knew what she had to do; and despite his gruff ways, Owen had helped her as much as he could. He got her to Russia and made sure no one would connect her to anything her plans included. If he had any judgements on the matter he didn't voice them to her and she knew he wouldn't speak of anything she told him to Nikita.

She had hunted a month after she hit Russian soil. First the monsters who saw her only as a slave and when she slit the throat of the last monster she felt nothing, no sense of relief, no hate nor any guilt.

For the first time since she could remember there was a void inside of her and she wondered if this would kill her. She had felt many things during her time as a sex slave, then as Nikita's mole and even more when she became a recruit.

But watching the blood drain had left her feeling nothing and instead of breaking down she moved on, left no trace and moved on in Russia to her next target.

Alex was by no means going to reclaim her fathers business. She wasn't that woman and deep down she still feared her.

She wanted revenge and it was selfish revenge too, because she wasn't spilling the blood for Alex Udinov but for Alex; the little girl left out in the cold, harsh world on her own.

The few men she could remember using her body fell like those monsters and if they had families she could only hope they understood what burden had been lifted from their shoulders.

The last step meant it would be over with and she would have no one left to point a finger at and blame. Her godfather would be either the final nail in her coffin or would bring a torrent of emotions that would no doubt break her.

Nikita didn't approve, she could tell by her voice and her letters but that was another world to Alex, a far away land where people got happy endings. Ally was still young and innocent, and that had rubbed off on Nikita.

Clutching the latest photo of Ally, Alex prayed that one day she would meet this little girl and be infected with her sunshine and innocence. She wouldn't be void and she would have found a place to call home. But until that day she would hunt and be who she had been trained to be.

She wasn't making the world a better place; she wasn't that naive nor stupid. Killers never became heroes; she was just playing out her role in the world.

As she sat staring at the photo, she didn't see that smiling little girl, but rather herself; as she walked calmly up to her godfather and shot him in the heart. She wouldn't drag the pain out, she wouldn't make him beg. That was beneath her, she was a killer but that didn't mean she liked it.

It would be quick and possibly painless, and that would be it. Months of planning, stalking and finally killing and she would be done with Russia, with her revenge and everything else connected with Alex Udinov.

The knock at the door jarred her and every muscle in her body was set on edge. The cottage Owen had chosen for her was so far away from human life that the only company she had every two weeks was animals. It worked for her best because she didn't want to explain her off hour keeping nor who she was.

Another knock and she was already on her feet, placing Ally's picture on the table she grabbed her gun and silently made her way to the door. Due to the harsh nature of Russia's weather, there was only a few windows in the cottage and they all turned towards the view of the frozen lake.

This was the first time she cursed this fact because she always guessed that if or when anyone came for her they wouldn't bother to knock.

The third knock was harsher, more impatient, and it was meant to get her attention. Unless they were attempting to get in through the back then this was just some random person, probably lost, looking for a little help.

And if she hadn't been through hell and made a few deals with the devil she would have agreed with it, but she had and she believed in the goodness more than the danger.

Shielding her gun enough not cause alarm, she yanked the door open and began scanning for hidden dangers. It wasn't until she was sure there was none that she noticed who was huddled on her doorstep, shivering under an American heavy winter coat.

"Birkhoff" her voice croaked and she wondered how long since she had spoken to someone; days, weeks, maybe even months. Owen had stocked the cottage with enough food to last through several Russian winters, so the only time she left the cottage was to train or track.

"I'm freezing my ass off here" he exclaimed revealing his pale face and blue lips. But she refused to let him in, refused to give into that overwhelming fear that, maybe, Division hadn't fallen like they thought. She feared that even at this moment Michael was pointing a gun at Nikita's head telling her that the past three years had been a lie.

"You going to let me in? No; then how you going to explain an ice pop man outside your place?" Birkhoff snapped and for a second the recruit reared their head and she almost obeyed him.

She was forced to years ago; despite his snarky nature and his ego, Birkhoff had become someone she didn't mind back in Division. He was short tempered and too full of himself but she found it all amusing, after knowing Nikita for so long and being closely watched by Michael.

Birkhoff wasn't the usual type of agent; hell he wasn't even the type of agent she had first thought of when Nikita laid out her plans of destroying Division.

"I'm getting frostbite" he snarled, flinching when she pointed the gun at his head, Birkhoff just glared.

"How about you explain why your even here before I decide where to put the bullet" Alex ordered, she had a mission damn it, and not even Division would stop that now. Their ghost wouldn't stop her.

"I'm scared; If my balls weren't about to drop off I would be pissing my pants right now sunshine. How about threatening to shoot me inside, with the warmth" Birkhoff offered and for a second Alex decided on just killing him now, and hoping Michael wasn't as loyal to Division as she feared he might be.

But the moment past and she was stepping back, holding on to the door with one hand to stop him using it against her while pointing her gun at his head. Birkhoff just stumbled in and quickly headed towards the roaring fire, if he meant to hurt her, they he would wait until he was warm enough and she didn't plan on giving him the chance.

"Russia is cold" he muttered, cursing more under his breath. Alex slipped the door close and quickly grabbed the knife hidden by the door, tucking it into her belt.

"And this is like the best jacket money could buy! The guy even told me he _had _been to _Russia_ in one of these. Lying his stupid ass off" Birkhoff grumbled, forcing Alex to stand as far away from him, watching his every move. He hadn't changed much since she last seen him; apart from the confused look on his face he wore when Michael admitted his love to Nikita and they finally brought down Division.

After the dust had settled Alex had helped Nikita track down Amanda, watched as Nikita shot her. Nikita took off to help save the poor few captives Amanda was trying to get to talk, no doubt to discover something about Nikita, and Alex stood there watching this woman she feared and hated bleeding to death.

Though Michael and Nikita thought it safe now, Alex had still questioned them as to the agents left behind, those who still didn't understand how they had become pawns. She even questioned Michael about Birkhoff, but for what ever reason Michael had he just shook his head and said to think the genius was dead.

And after a year Alex believed just that; the old Birkhoff was dead to her and she felt a pang of guilt because he wasn't a real bad guy, he was just mixed up.

But now he was here, still snarky and ranting about how people were no where as near smart as him. Just like a ghost from her past and she didn't know if the swell of emotions was because she had an enemy she wasn't sure she could fight or because there was someone real standing before her.

"Why?" he didn't seem mad that she interrupted his rant, he didn't even look at her. He just stared at the fire as those it held the answers.

Turning those dark eyes towards her he smirked, and that old fight or flee instinct kicked in but then he was looking at the picture of Ally and his face melted into a smile.

She saw fondness in that smile.

"She's talking now; did you know that? Guessed you would because Nikita isn't one to let things fade out. The hot ones usually are hard to forget" and just like that he seemed warm enough to shed his jacket and relax. A muscle ticked in her jaw and she wanted to shove the gun in his face to remind him that this wasn't like back at Division, he didn't own anything here.

"I even taught the kid how to play a few computer games; won't tell mom and pops their designed to help her hack into systems" Birkhoff was amused with himself, and if this was any other place or time she might had felt inclined to smirk at the idea of the head ache he had caused.

"I'm holding a gun, planning to shoot your knee caps out to get my answer. So it's either tell me the easy way or the hard way" holding the gun in both hands to stop it from shaking, Alex was ready to follow through.

Birkhoff just shrugged and sat down, he threw one last look to the picture before looking at her and raising an eyebrow.

"Not your style sweetheart" the hard gulp wasn't anything more then a natural reaction. It wasn't because she was cursing her self and trying to figure out just _when _she left a trail behind in her mission in Russia. The way he snorted and lent back meant maybe she hadn't.

"I'm a genius, remember. Tracking people who aren't meant to be able to be tracked, is what I do or at least did. She's still looking out for you and believe me a pissed Nikita, albeit a hot Nikita, isn't something you want to screw around with. Owen was lucky Michael was there. She told me that you were off doing god only knows what and here I am" with a flourish of hands Alex didn't know if she wanted to burst out laughing at his antics or cry knowing that Nikita was still reaching out for her.

Even when she didn't ask for it.

"Look; I'm like the last person who would ever start waving a white flag," he caught his lip between his teeth and then quickly soothed it with his tongue, his eyes darting to the floor, to the gun then back to her eyes.

"At least the last person who _you _would accept waving one; but, I owe Michael and it sucks but the guy saved my life and Nikita is kinder like his life now and I owe it to him and I guess I owe you too" he admitted finally settling his eyes on the floor. A twitching muscle in his jaw made her believe him, he hated more than anything owing someone his life.

"Why" it wasn't like she wouldn't shoot him but for the first time since he turned up in her life, she wanted to hear what he had to say and not because she was forced to or because she needed information on a mission.

"Because; hell because before you there was no doubt, about Division or my work. Ever. But then you show up and the doubts start getting in my head. First if you were Nikita's mole, then about you and Michael and finally because... well because I had to know if what Amanda said was true. I could understand them killing your parents. I get that" for all his brains he still wasn't a people person.

"But for what happened _after_; they wanted you dead, probably more then your father and that's messed up, more messed up then half the shit they pulled. But it got me doubting everything; I'm not a good guy, I don't care about others unless I get something from it. It's who I am and I'm proud because you don't get to be a genius like me without thinking that way".

Her snort did not mean she was likely to drop her gun soon, but it was enough for him to believe she might.

"But I'm not _that _guy; the one who is OK with a little kid being left for dead then sold to become a sex slave. I'm not him and I did hate you. I hated you and Nikita a hell of lot after you took down Division, because Division was... was safe" her gun lowered a fraction but Birkhoff didn't notice, he was too interested in the ground now.

He spoke to hear his voice most of the time, she was sure of it but the words and tone didn't match this time. He wasn't talking to be heard, he was talking because he could.

"Michael didn't cut me loose after Division; he kept me on his radar and I hated him too, I was safe at Division, because it was a life where I didn't have to be anyone else. I was a smart ass and people didn't care because they needed what I could do and they put up with me; you and Nikita ripped that from me and I hated you for it. But then Ally came and she was just shoved into my arms" she's surprised at his laugh then and hated herself when she lowered her gun as his hands dragged across his face.

"I never held a baby, ever, and then Ally is there and I couldn't stop it; I kept thinking what if Division was still around. What would happen to her if someone was ordered to kill Nikita and Michael; would she be dealt with too or would someone save her only for her to handed around like a party favour. It's messed up and if it was years ago I wouldn't care but I did care; I do care about all that crap now" he held her gaze now, his jaw tightening to the point she thought he would break some teeth.

And then his laughing, bitterly at himself and her.

"Don't make a damn difference does it though? I'm still Division, just like Michael right? Somewhere deep down you still think if you can shoot him despite knowing Nikita loves him. Could you save her if it came to that; could you face Ally knowing you killed her father if he turned?" Birkhoff seemed so convinced that Alex just let her slide shut.

He was right; there was moments when she wondered how easy it would be for her to pull the trigger if she suspected of Michael still being Division.

"Your going to kill him?" snapping her eyes open, Alex studied the man sitting before her. She licked her lips, trying to tell him to go to hell. To leave and never look back but she couldn't.

"Your godfather; your going to kill him right" he questioned again and feeling the shame she nodded. Repressing the urge to run and hide because she knew she was meant to be alone.

Nodding sharply he just lent forward, elbows on his knees. His teeth chewing his lips and his dark eyes searching her face.

"I'm not going to wave a white flag any time soon; I'm not ashamed of what I did, because that was my work. Yeah I don't like who I did it for but I would still do it again, because I'm vain and a smart ass. But I'll help... you... do what ever it is you need to do because... because maybe Ally might think I'm not _that _bad when she grows up. Because no matter what I'm not going to change into some hero" he offers.

For several long moments she just stares at him. Remembering Division and all the times he would try to break her because Percy and Amanda wanted that. Remembering the times when he wouldn't be so wound up or ego driven and he would talk to her like a human.

It took the clicking of the safety for him to release his breath; she hadn't agreed to his help but at least she wasn't going to shoot him.

"What if I can't?" her voice was so small and she hated herself but had nothing left to change it.

"Kill him?"

"Face him" leaning back and pursing his lips it took a few minutes of thinking before he would look at her with a firm idea in his head.

"Then I'll be there; I'll have your back or whatever you need" he declares and the tears threaten to fall from her eyes. Everyone offered to help, but not since Nikita and Michael had anyone offered to just stand there and support her.

Nodding she knows nothing more has to be said; like it or not she had Birkhoff covering her back and it may or may not meant they were friends but it was something.

"You can sleep here; it's the warmest place in the cottage" she offers and like that he isn't her biggest threat, she would still sleep with her gun but at least now she _could _sleep tonight.

He just nodded and scowled at his surroundings but said nothing and for Birkhoff that meant a big deal because he could out bitch the best of them on any given day.

Exhausted she headed towards her room, trusting that he would fend for himself. But for what ever reason she stopped and quickly walking back to him, she lent forward and hugged him.

Tension rippled throughout his body, but he didn't push her away. He just let her be and considering she had listen to him spill his guts to her, she figured he could let her have this one moment.

"Thank you" her voice was chocked full of emotion and he shifted because he didn't do emotions.

"For what" he questioned, so much like the man she once knew.

"For thinking I deserved a happy ending" she wasn't sure that was right but it _felt _right and he didn't question her any further on the matter.

This wasn't the happy ending she ever imagined but it was the best she could hope for now her life had turned out this way.

And when that final bullet ripped through her godfather's chest, she didn't cry. The void was gone; just relief and sadness. This wasn't the girl he sold; he had his hand in making her this way but he could never picture it.

Birkhoff didn't judge her, didn't say anything to her on the flight to America. He sat in silence, glancing at her from time to time to make sure she hadn't completely gone.

And when the lights of LA came into view, he let her grip his hand tightly as she pushed the tears away.

He didn't wave a white flag, he never would, but he did help her find peace in the end and she was more grateful.

She was grateful for him.

The End


End file.
